The bossman was so mean, you know, I worked just like a slave,
Sixteen long hours drive you in your grave,

That's why I'm walkin', walkin' my blues away.
Well, the sun gonna shine, in my backdoor some day.

You can't plant cotton and expect to gather corn,
Can't take right peoples, and sure make it wrong,

I once had a car, it was painted white and black,
Couldn't keep up the payments, the man, he come and took it back,

I wouldn't tell a mule to get up, if he set down in my lap,
Yes, that's what killed my old grandpap,

I got them old coffee grounds in my coffee, big boweevals in my fields,
Tacks in my shoes keep on stickin' me, in my heels,

You used to be my sweet milk, now, you sour on me,
Since we're not together, you're not sweet like you used to be,

Paper boy hollerin' extree, have you read the news,
Just shot the woman I love, got that walkin' blues.